Baby grand piano in the den - spring

It rules the whole house, actually. A more powerful force than the clock, flaunting its timelessness - Look you can see history

in its finish,

and the glistening future.

It does not need its music the way we need our language, our self-approvals ... Even in silence its pride is permanent.

The keyboard is

a banner of bones

Ivory tower of strength.

It poses, top grandly propped like a protective wing - While birds outside the window sing about sunlight

Tuned only

to their bodies,

conducted by trees.

In fragile dawn when no one is about, the piano is a giant ebony shell ... Secrets of the house sifting through strings

Hear the ocean

Hear a child's breath

Hear the world.